Read Online Footprints by Robert Rayner - Free Book Online Page B

the woods farther along the beach, towards the cottage. It’s followed by another, and the sound of thrashing foliage.
    â€œYou got yourself a moose,” says Droopy.
    â€œI can tell a goddamn moose from a rabbit or a dog,” says Diamond Head.
    â€œSounds like a moose. Or a deer.”
    There’s more thrashing of foliage. Droopy and Diamond Head move towards it. Harper eases himself forwards and cautiously raises his head. The guards have moved away and are peering into the woods.
    Diamond Head raises his gun, then lowers it and says, “It’s getting too dark to see.”
    The sound stops.
    â€œBest get back to the cottage anyway,” says Droopy.
    Isora whispers, “Time to go.”
    She turns and squirms back to the camp, still holding and muzzling George. Harper follows. With a glance behind, they stand. Isora releases George and they set off jogging on the deer trail.

10
    Drumgold says, “What did you find?”
    â€œNothing,” says Harper.
    â€œWhat d’you mean...nothing?”
    â€œThey’ve gone. Someone’s taken them down.”
    The boys are at Al’s, waiting for Isora, who is working at the daycare. Harper has been surreptitiously checking the petitions they’ve put up around town, while Drumgold was at the town office helping his mother, who works for the Happy Helpers Janitorial Agency. The friends have decided to displaythe petitions for a week before announcing the march.
    â€œDid you check them all?” says Drumgold.
    Harper counts them off on his fingers. “Post office – gone. Convenience store – gone. Drugstore – gone. Legion – gone. Baptist church and Anglican church – gone. The only one left is the one we put up here.”
    Harper nods towards the petition they’d taped on the wall at Al’s a week ago, between a notice advertising a supper at the Presbyterian church and a darts meet at the legion. The only signatures on it are those of Al and Ed. Al said she signed not because she was opposed to the LNG plant, but because she was friends with the organizers of the petition.
    â€œThat sucks,” Drumgold complains.
    â€œWhat sucks?” asks Al, emerging from the kitchen and leaning on the counter.
    â€œSomeone’s taken all our petitions down,” says Harper.
    â€œWhat did you expect?” says Al. “People are nervous about any kind of protest or challenge to authority. It’s the age we live in. I call it the Age of Fear.”
    â€œBut there’s no need for people to be nervous here,” says Harper. “I mean...this is Back River, not Toronto or New York.”
    â€œPeople are getting mighty nervous in Saint-Leonard right now, and that’s pretty close to home,” says Al. She adds, “And with good reason.”
    â€œWhat’s going on in Saint-Leonard?” says Drumgold.
    â€œIt was on the news just now,” Al explains. “Some maniac hijacked a truck, drove it into the front of the Eastern Oil building, jumped out, and disappeared. The truck’s still there while the police wait for the bomb disposal experts, because they’re afraid it’s full of explosives that didn’t go off. The whole downtown is blocked off, and traffic is backed up right through the city.”
    â€œThat’s exactly where we were the other day,” says Harper. “The truck would have ploughed right through us. Why would someone do that?”
    â€œBecause of the LNG plant, dummy,” says Drumgold. “People are pretty steamed up about it. You saw that at the meeting.”
    â€œPeople are steamed up on both sides,” Al puts in. “There’s plenty of folks want to see it happen. And I’m one of them. It’d be good for the town, because it’d bring in a few jobs. It might even keep me out of the poorhouse for another year or two.”
    â€œYeah, but...hijacking a truck and driving it into a